The Hong Kong market, in its divine plot,
With coin and treasure, its coffers hath filled a lot.
Like well aged wine, their gain did grow,
A toast to commerce, profits in tow.

China's graphite, black as the midnight ale,
Sealed in barrels, withheld from sale.
In fear for kingdom's security, so dear,
They save each piece, like a monk his beer.

Two lords of Crypt, for their sins stood trial,
O'er a treasure hoard of digital vial.
The wolves of law, their hunt now cease,
A victory rais'd for crypto's peace.

by Brother Arnulfus

a centaur